Yani, predictably, couldn’t resist one last jab. Without turning around, she spoke in a flat, disinterested tone, as if she were comnting on the weather rather than aiming a blade. "By the way, Brother Xuanyan—if your pill refinent skills are even half as effective as your flirting, we might run out of herbs before you pass the test."
Lingling inhaled sharply, clearly caught off guard. "Senior Sister Yani, that’s uncalled for," she said, frowning.
Yani’s lips curved just enough to suggest satisfaction. "It’s not uncalled for. It’s encouragent," she replied coolly. "Turning disappointnt into productivity is also a form of alchemy."
Xuanyan’s response ca from behind her, calm and unhurried, as if the remark hadn’t struck anything sensitive at all. "That’s a practical theory," he said evenly. "Although in my experience, strong emotions tend to disrupt qi circulation. You may want to keep yours in check."
Yani stopped walking.
She turned slowly, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Are you implying sothing?" she asked, her voice light enough to sound harmless but sharp enough to cut.
Xuanyan t her gaze without flinching. "Only that Lingling’s trust seems to bother you more than my cultivation."
The words landed quietly, without force, and that made them harder to deflect. Lingling’s face ward imdiately, her eyes shifting away in embarrassnt. Yani stared at Xuanyan for a mont longer than necessary, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly, before scoffing.
"Don’t flatter yourself," she said, turning away sharply. "You’re imagining things."
She increased her pace, posture rigid and steps brisk, as if speed alone could distance her from the irritation crawling up her spine. She told herself it was ridiculous—completely ridiculous—and refused to acknowledge the faint heat creeping up her neck. Still, every few steps her gaze drifted back against her will, only for her to snap her attention forward again the instant she realized what she was doing.
Lingling noticed all of it.
Her smile didn’t disappear—but it tightened, thoughtful and restrained, as they continued toward the examination grounds.
"Senior Yani," Lingling said gently, tilting her head just enough to look innocent, "your ears are red. Are you feeling unwell?"
Yani stopped for a fraction of a second before answering, her back still turned. "It’s hot in here," she replied stiffly. "Unlike you, I’m focused on work, not... distractions." Her gaze flicked briefly—unwillingly—toward Xuanyan before snapping away again, the heat creeping higher despite her denial.
Lingling stepped closer to Xuanyan without hesitation, slipping her arm around his and leaning into him naturally, her softness pressing lightly against his side as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "Oh?" she said airily. "But Brother Xuanyan is very comfortable to lean on."
Yani’s jaw tightened. A fine crack appeared in her composure—barely visible, but real. "This is an alchemy chamber," she muttered. "Not a private room."
Lingling’s smile didn’t fade. "But we’re not doing anything improper," she replied sweetly, her eyes flicking toward Yani with quiet intent. "Or does Senior Sister find it distracting?"
Yani inhaled sharply, irritation spiking too fast to control. "No need!" she snapped, then faltered mid-sentence. "I was only ensuring you didn’t contaminate the workspace with unnecessary—" Her voice dropped as her gaze landed on Xuanyan’s hand, which still rested lightly at Lingling’s waist out of habit. "...contact."
Xuanyan sighed internally, already sensing where this was going.
Lingling, of course, noticed everything. She leaned a little closer to him, lowering her voice just enough to feel intimate without being loud. "Senior Yani seems very concerned about us."
Yani stiffened instantly. "Don’t say ridiculous things," she shot back, words coming too fast. "I’m concerned about the test. Nothing else."
Lingling’s smile widened, subtle but unmistakable. "Of course. It would be strange for Senior Sister to worry about such things."
The words were harmless. The implication was not.
Yani’s composure finally wavered. Her breath hitched before she turned sharply, cheeks flushed despite her effort to suppress it. She slamd her palm down on a nearby cauldron, the tallic clang ringing sharply through the chamber. "Enough," she said, voice trembling with restrained fury. "Prepare your test."
She didn’t turn back. "And don’t stand so close behind ."
Xuanyan blinked faintly—the irony being that it was she who had walked too close in the first place.
Lingling leaned toward him, lips near his ear, her voice light and amused. "Brother... she’s very easy to tease."
"I heard that," Yani snapped without turning, her voice icy but unmistakably tight.
Lingling smiled serenely. "I didn’t say anything, Senior Yani. You just seem... sensitive today."
Yani didn’t answer. She stood rigid at the front of the chamber, posture straight and professional, authority held together by sheer will alone—while the faint redness at her ears betrayed everything she refused to acknowledge.
Xuanyan was about to step toward the cauldron when Lingling suddenly moved in front of him, blocking his path completely. Her fingers curled into his sleeve, gripping tightly enough that her knuckles turned pale, as if letting go even for a mont wasn’t an option.
"Brother Xuanyan," she whispered, eyes searching his face, "don’t be nervous." Before he could reply, she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. The kiss wasn’t rushed or impulsive—it was soft, lingering, and steady, the kind ant to reassure rather than distract. For a brief mont, the crackling flas and clattering cauldrons around them seed to fade, and Lingling felt his calm warmth ground her completely, shattering the lingering doubt Yani had planted monts earlier.
She pulled back gently, smiling up at him with quiet certainty. "Good luck," she said softly. "Think of it as a charm." Then she stepped away as if nothing extraordinary had happened and walked toward Yani with an unhurried composure.
Yani stood frozen, her mouth opening instinctively as if to scold or demand an explanation, only to close again when no words ca. It had only been a kiss—brief, innocent, and unremarkable by any standard—yet it struck her far harder than she expected. A tight, uncomfortable sensation twisted in her chest as irritation mixed with envy and sothing she refused to na, and she found herself staring between Lingling’s flushed but unashad expression and Xuanyan’s calm, unreadable deanor as he turned back toward the cauldron without comnt.
Why does this bother so much? The thought slipped into her mind against her will, stirring frustration along with a faint sense of loss she didn’t understand. Yani had always prided herself on discipline and control, on never letting emotion interfere with judgnt, yet her heartbeat refused to slow over sothing so ordinary. Before she could fully rein herself in, Lingling’s voice cut through the tension, light and almost careless as she spoke.
"It’s probably hard to understand," she said mildly, "if you’ve never experienced it." The words landed sharper than their tone suggested. Yani stiffened, her jaw tightening as heat rushed to her face, fists clenching at her sides while she forced herself to breathe and regain control. Enough—this wasn’t the place, and it certainly wasn’t the ti. Her expression hardened as composure snapped back into place through sheer will. "Begin the test," Yani said coldly, and with those words, the lingering tension shattered as the exam finally began.
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